Guilty
by Myrielle
Summary: Ulfberth War-Bear blames the Dragonborn for Adrianne's death. Desperate to arrest his downward spiral, the DB agrees to anything he wants.


Disclaimer: Don't own anything from Skyrim except the F!DB and the smutty plot.

Summary: Ulfberth War-Bear blames the Dragonborn for Adrianne's death. Desperate to arrest his downward spiral, the DB agrees to anything he wants.

_A/N: I actually posted this at kinkmeme (prompt was for dub-con obligatory sex) a couple of days back but it's not showed and I realised I mispelled names! That's unforgivable. I hope I got all the mistakes and have made a more decent (no pun intended) effort here. I blame the Muse for the dirty mind; the weird overload of hormones are mine unfortunately, sigh. But it helped with getting the latest chapter of Dragonrend out. I'm sensing a pattern here (noooo!)._

**GUILTY**

Thank the Nine Lydia wasn't in this evening. Fia bit her lip nervously, the fingers that braided her hair felt awkward as she twisted the thick golden strands around each other, finally knotting the end with a leather thong. She needed a haircut; the braid went past the small of her back, brushing against the simple belt that rode low on her hips, the tanned leather a soft contrast to the light green of the dress she wore. Soft light boots completed her ensemble. What Fia really wanted was her Guildmaster's armour, her Nightingale blade and trusty bow. Still, she was going into a battlefield of sorts and no amount of weaponry or the presence of her faithful housecarl who was out patrolling the lands around Whiterun since she had no idea her Thane had returned.

She hoped the news she had yet to reveal would sooth the man who was so angry with her. The last time he had seen her, Ulfberth War-Bear had taken out his battle-axe and actually charged her. He would have killed her too, if it had been within his ability to do so. But he had been half-drunk, even though the sun had just reached its peak in the sky, and the guards had been compassionate, opting to restrain him instead of using their weapons. She had quietly paid his bail before fleeing the city, wrecked with guilt and vibrating with rage as she travelled to Riverwood, to the forests beyond to seek out the vengeful old witch whose hired thugs had struck down the Imperial blacksmith who had only been trying to help. This was the third time she had gone back, and a third time paid all because Anise had returned from wherever she had hidden herself. Instead of an arrow, Fia had opted for an up close and personal slash to the throat, white teeth drawn back in a savage snarl, the low rumble of a dragon's growl in her throat as her prey went down in a flood of blood and slashed robes that fluttered against the witch's lifeless form. If she had known this was the price to pay for one stupid book, she would never have taken it. In the end, Fia had left Anise's body for the resident bear which had come closer, standing just beyond the rocky outcropping as it waited for her to depart.

That had been two weeks ago, bringing the number of weeks since Adrianne's death to a total of eight. Within the past two months, Warmaiden's had been closed; Ulfberth had been the merchant but Adrienne the smith and without her, there had been no new weapons. To pass the time, Ulfberth had taken up what seemed like permanent residence in The Bannered Mare, spending his days and most of his nights drinking himself into oblivion. Most people were sympathetic enough. The Nord man had loved his Imperial wife with fierce devotion and without her, his life had gone to pieces. Even his father-in-law had been helpless to do anything and he had his own grief to bear.

It was late now, almost an hour before midnight. Snuffing out the fat candles that had burned low, the silky wax curdling at the base of their holders, Fia descended the steps, cracked open the door to Whiterun and waited. Normally, she might have bribed the guards into looking the other way but tonight's business was private and she didn't want anyone to know about it. A slight shudder seized her slender form and she tightened her grip on the door. For all she knew, Ulfberth might still try to kill her and that would leave only her Thu'um to defend her. Her knowledge of magic was rudimentary at best, limited to healing spells which she deemed necessary and struggled to master. In the heat of battle, there was little time to reach for a potion, as she had learnt the hard way.

Once the usual patrol had passed, she slipped out and kept to the shadows, trusting in Nocturnal's blessing to shield her from any other watching eyes. The night was cold but silent, she could hear the gentle call of the night birds, hear the fading clink of chainmail and the scuff of boots on the cobbled streets. And sweetest of all was the familiar slide and snick of tumblers in a lock sliding to open the door for her. Quick as the nightingale whose name she bore, the Nord woman slipped into the shop.

It was the dust she first noticed, her nose twitching and she pinched it, stifling the urge to sneeze. Eyes touched by dragon senses gave her excellent night vision and the place told its own woeful tale of how Ulfberth in his rage had trashed it. Shields dotted the floor and there was more than one sword or axe firmly lodged in the wall. 'Or rather walls,' she thought sadly, picking her way through the mess. Concentrating, she summoned a small flame and lit a wall sconce, then another, and a third.

She owed it to him to help him out of the mess she had caused. Rolling up her sleeves, the young thief hitched up her long skirts, knotting the sides so that the hemline brushed her thighs and picked up an Ebony shield from the ground. It might be hours before Ulfberth came back and she might as well make herself useful. "Please let him listen to me," she murmured softly as she yanked hard on a Dwarven sword driven more than halfway into a wall. He had always seemed stern but approachable, a tall imposing man who dwarfed her by more than a full head. What she had liked most was the tender gleam in his eye that he had had for his wife alone.

...

She had just returned the last of the steel swords to the counter when she heard Ulfberth fumbling at the door, the jangle of keys muted yet harsh in the silence. Fia swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, wiped her damp palms on her dress and fought the urge to open the door for Ulfberth. Instead, she waited where she stood, trying not to bite down on her lip and maintain her composure. Then, the door gave and Ulfberth came stumbling in. The gentle glow of the sconces made him wince.

"The hell—" he cursed and froze when his eyes, the colour of dark wild storms, landed on her. Automatically his hand reached back for his war-axe, only to grasp empty air. He must have left the damned thing at Hulda's, he thought furiously, blinking against the lights and wishing that he had drunk himself into a stupor bad enough to be imagining things. "You're here, thief," he spat. "You're actually standing in my fucking home which you broke into." With a savage growl, he kicked the door shut and advanced on the girl, reaching for her. "You want to die?"

He had enormous hands, Fia realised belatedly. He could well span the width of her neck and crush it easily enough. "I killed her," she blurted out, panicked. If she wanted to fight back, she could have but the last thing she wanted was to hurt Ulfberth or further humiliate him. She had done enough already. "Anise, the witch who sent those thugs after me. I cut her throat." Ulfberth stopped, his face still wreathed in a fearsome scowl and not for the first time did Fia think War-Bear was more than a fitting name for him. "And I left her for the bear," she finished softly. "Please."

"Please what?" he snapped, dropping his hands to clench them by his sides. "It's not going to bring her back and it doesn't mean you're suddenly innocent of her death. Get out."

If the smell of ale could kill, Fia would have dropped dead a long time ago. The stench of the alcohol was fast filling the room. It was a miracle that Ulberth was still on his feet and rather coherent. "No."

"Get out, girl."

"Please," she repeated, "I can help. Let me—"

He roared as he lunged for her. For a huge inebriated man, he moved fast. Fia was faster. She dodged, felt his fingers snag the edge of her skirt even as she ripped it away and then gasped in horror as Ulfberth collided with the counter and landed in a heap on the floor. Two shields near the edge shifted and slid, falling down on him with a clatter.

"Oh gods, I'm sorry!" Recklessly, she rushed forward, shoving the banded iron shields off him. The smell of blood tainted the air. Tugging at his shoulders, she tried to turn him over to check for wounds and never saw his hand until it was too late. When his fingers closed over her throat, cutting off her supply of air, Fia realised that she truly was helpless; there was no way that she could shout.

Tonilia had taught her to go for the face instead of grabbing for the hands on her. Someone must have told Ulfberth about that little trick because when she swung the heel of her hand at him, aiming for his nose, he caught her wrist in a painful vice and slammed it to the ground. "Try that again and I'll break you," he rasped viciously, his mouth almost on her cheek, the hand on her throat squeezing tighter, so much so she opened her mouth, trying to inhale air that would never come. Uselessly, she shoved at his shoulder with her other hand, writhing and bucking beneath him in an attempt to shake him loose. He grunted, pushing his heavy legs atop hers, pinning her to the ground as tears filled her eyes. The room was getting darker...the sconces dimming—

Suddenly the air rushed back into her lungs and she gasped, coughing and choking and trying to take as much in as she could, lungs heaving. Her back arched as she tried to roll free but Ulfberth's almost crushing weight kept her firmly beneath him. The tears slid down her temples into her hair but she didn't notice because she could breathe. Above her, Ulfberth propped himself up on one elbow and she met his gaze. His hair had grown noticeably longer, brushing his shoulders and that beard was a wild thick mass. He looked as dangerous as any bandit chief she had encountered in the wilds and Fia was beginning to realise that she had caught a sabre-cat by the tail and was now at his mercy.

"You want to help?" he rumbled, the smell of his wine-laced breath hot on her face.

Mutely, she nodded.

"You're sorry?" he continued, fierce grey eyes boring into hers. Fia was suddenly aware of his large hand that still manacled hers at an uncomfortable angle above her head, of the heat of his body between her legs.

"Yes, I can't tell you how much," she choked out softly. "I'll do anything."

"Anything," he repeated. "Truly?"

She nodded earnestly. "Yes." She wanted to add that he couldn't continue this way, that he had to pull himself together. She knew people, she had connections, she was the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild for Talos' sake—even if that had happened more by luck and Nocturnal's designs than anything else.

"Then get up." As he lifted himself off her, Fia squirmed as Ulfberth's heavy pelvis pressed hard against her hips. Against her will, she blushed but there was no time to dwell on that as he pulled her to her feet. "I want a bath."

Trailing after him, Fia nursed her wrist against her chest. It felt bruised, as did her throat. Two months of hard drinking had done little to whittle away at his strength. Belatedly, she realised her skirts were still knotted up and she tugged them loose. Ahead, Ulfberth pushed open a door at the back of the shop, revealing a sizeable room with a bathtub, a chair, several barrels of water and some buckets. The shelves were full of lavender and dragon's breath and mixed bundles of mountain flowers in shades of pink, blue and red. There were several bars of pale soap as well.

"Light the sconce," he ordered. It took Fia three tries before she mustered enough focus to do so. When she turned around, Ulfberth was standing next to the chair.

"Would you like me to fill the tub and heat the water?" she asked quietly when he did nothing but looked her up and down. Her skin prickled and her instincts were telling her to get out of the room, that something was certainly not right.

"No. Just water and soap for now." His voice sounded almost eerie, devoid of the rough anger he had unleashed on her moments before.

It took some doing but she finally found a barrel that wasn't as full as the others and managed to drag it near enough to him. She put a bucket next to it, then found another and put in a bar of soap and a washcloth. "D-do you need anything else?" she asked, feeling somewhat ashamed to sound like a solicitous innkeeper or personal maid.

A low rasping chuckle escaped him and she shivered. "Undress me."

"What?" She didn't realise she had blurted out the question, only aware of Ulfberth taking a step forward and herself retreating.

"You said anything," he reminded her.

"I meant... I didn't mean—Ulfberth, please..."

"So you are a liar, and a craven as well." She would have felt better if he had raved or spat the words at her. Instead, he spoke so calmly, so reasonably that it felt almost true.

"I..." Fia's heart was beating so loudly in her ears. She could feel the scorn pouring from Ulfberth. How he despised her, the woman who had taken his wife from him and didn't dare to face him. That had been the last thing he had screamed at her as the guards dragged him away to the dungeon in Dragonsreach, everyone in Whiterun watching. "I owe him," she thought grimly. Uncurling her hands, which had been balled into painful fists, she reached for his armour.

The first thing to go was the chest piece; the iron armour had the weight of the world as she unbuckled it, felt it slide off his body and she held it before taking a few steps to place it in an empty chest against the wall. Next came the belt, the thick cloth and iron chausses, his boots. Her hands were visibly trembling when she finally had to unlace the ties of his undershirt at his throat. "Could you...I can't...You're too tall..."

Wordlessly, he grasped the edges of the tunic and lifting it, shrugged off the shirt. In the semi-darkness of the room his muscles rippled powerfully and it took Fia a moment to realise he was holding it out to her. Draping it over her shoulder, she looked down at his breeches, frozen, not daring to say no but she could not bring her hands to do what she knew needed to be done. It wasn't that she was a virgin; there had been that one time with the son of her father's friend back in Cyrodiil but it had been hasty, a frantic coupling that had sprung more from reckless curiosity than real desire. 'I don't want to sleep with him.' She wanted to voice the words, beg Ulfberth but she knew he would never relent and her guilt kept her chained firmly in place. This was her penance and she had to pay it.

"Girl," Ulfberth warned. He knew her name, but it felt more fitting not to use it. And she had always seemed more girl than woman to him, with her thickly lashed blue eyes and fair golden hair that she wore in a fetching side braid. He had noticed she was pretty, and Adrianne had noticed he had noticed. But it had been a moment's observation and no more. He had never imagined that they would one day be here, with her shaking hands pulling at the knot of his laces, long fingers trying so carefully not to touch what lay beneath the cloth. He should have felt sorry for her and a distant part of him, the part that had died with Adrienne was telling him to stop. But he was in so much pain and she was the cause and it seemed right—was right, he insisted vehemently—that she suffer with him too.

Finally, she had pulled the laces out, leaving his breeches loose and open. Impatiently, he seized her hands, hooked her fingers over the edge of his trousers and smalls and pushed downwards. He heard her sharp intake of breath, noted the way she turned her head at an extreme angle to avoid seeing him, and almost groaned with relief when she began tugging off his remaining clothing. When she got to his knees, she hesitated and when it became clear he was not going to lift his legs, she got down on her own knees and pushed them down to his ankles. Only then did he help her. It took considerable willpower not to reach down and wrap that thick golden braid around his fist and force her mouth onto his cock. He was completely hard now, aching and ready. It had been so long; there had been no one since Adrianne even though he had moments of fierce need. Whiterun was too small, people gossiped too much and he had loved his wife too much to give anyone reason to say he disgraced her memory.

It annoyed him that the lithe thief was refusing to look at him. Once she had deposited his filthy garments in the chest, she had busied herself with the washcloth and soap, working up a thick lather. "If you could sit." She sounded almost hoarse, her normally clear voice so low and thick that he had to focus to hear her even in the quiet of the room.

Filling a bucket with water, Fia poured it carefully over his head. Ulfberth made a sound like a groan as he wiped the cold liquid over his face. Something burned low in her stomach and she sucked in her gut, jaw clenched as she kept her eyes firmly on his chest. Droplets glimmered on the hard curves on his arms, winked at her as they gather at his collarbone before spilling down over an impossible broad chest. His stomach was flat and ridged with muscle. And below that, she refused to look.

She started with his hair, black as sin and as soft and thick a fur pelt. Rubbing the soap in her hands, she worked up a good amount of lather and massaged it into his hair. He tipped his head back, eyes falling almost shut, exposing the corded lines of his neck to her. She could trace every swallow he took with her eyes even as her fingers rubbed at his scalp, stroked themselves firmly through wet locks of hair. She rubbed behind his ears and he shifted slightly, huffing out a breath as her hands slipped down to his shoulders and began to slide over his skin. 'What are you going?' she screamed silently at herself and promptly reached down for the washcloth, only to be stopped.

"Leave it."

For one moment Fia considered disobeying. Then, she gritted her teeth, pressed her lips together and went back to scrubbing him with her hands. She soaped his back first, thankful when Ulfberth automatically sat up straight to give her access. It felt entirely too intimate and completely wrong to feel the bunched muscles beneath her palms, the way his body flexed beneath her touch as he shifted, his steady breathing too loud in the small room. When she got to the small of his back, Fia moved to his sides. She felt Ulfberth's displeasure but she didn't care, even if it was only putting off the inevitable.

Her hands were calloused but softer than he had expected. A swordmaiden's hands, and the knowledge that it was the Dragonborn sent a jolt straight to his cock. She had spent so much time scrubbing his back that he was sure it was cleaner than it had been in years. Now though, she had little choice but to wash his front. Reaching out, he gripped her waist and she gasped when he pulled her between his thighs. He let his heated gaze rest on her face, trailed it over the curve of her neck, took in the press of her breasts against the modest neckline as she lathered her hands and soaped his chest. A pink blush spread over her cheeks as she brushed her hands over his nipples, which hardened at her touch but she kept her eyes averted from his and her hands made their quick way down to his belly.

She was starting to bend at the waist and Fia knew eventually, she would have to kneel. By now, there was a fine sheen of sweat on her skin and she was also aware that the neckline of her dress was starting to gape each time she leaned down. 'Just get it over with,' she told herself. 'It doesn't matter, and one man is the same as another.'

She discovered how untrue that was when finally, she had to bring her eyes level with his hips. For a moment, her hands stilled on his thighs and her eyes went wide. It was a good thing she was kneeling down, Fia thought faintly as her stomach clenched painfully with a strange sharp mix of excitement and fear. "Hung like a mammoth," Vex had once cackled as she regaled Fia and Tonilia with her conquests and that was the only description that came to mind at the moment.

"Keep scrubbing, girl." Arousal pooled thickly in his lower belly and he grew even harder. The heat stretch and weight of his erection was becoming uncomfortable and he had to fight not to grab the slender thief, toss her skirts up and rut her furiously. 'Not yet anyway,' he consoled himself grimly. Her small quick hands were making their way around and over his calves, down his ankles and even his toes. She was nothing if not meticulous, he noted with dark amusement. She gasped when he stood up, but understood what he wanted. When she tried to stand though, he pushed her down. The sight of her on her knees with his cock so close to her face was almost enthralling.

"Reach around behind me," he muttered. When her fingers touched his buttocks, he clenched involuntarily and his cock jumped, as did the girl. It narrowly missed hitting her in the face, and her mouth was open, her breathing quick, distress clearly outlined on her flushed face. But she cleaned him well, even when it came to the sensitive cleft between his arse and finally, she was left with the one area she had been avoiding all along.

He sat back down again. "Use more soap this time."

Numbly, Fia did as he asked. When her hands were thickly coated with the fragrant white bubbles, she swallowed hard, audibly, wringing her fingers together. With an impatient growl, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, jerking her forward as his fingers slid down in between hers and Fia cried out softly as Ulfberth spread his thighs wider and together, their hands pressed against the heavy sac beneath his cock. He dropped his head back, groaning deeply, his hips lifting, jerking, the muscles in his thighs tensing as he rubbed their hands up and down, back and forth as he made her cup his balls in her palm. It felt like lightning leaped up her arm and if she could have run, Fia would have, except that Ulfberth had wrapped his other hand around the back of her neck, holding her in place.

She whimpered when he wrapped their fingers around his erection. His face had gone completely taut, eyes narrowed to hard slits the colour of flint, mouth drawn back so that she could see a glint of white as he stroked himself off with her hand. "Harder," he clipped out, nostrils flaring, stomach muscles clenching when she complied. He was so thick that she barely managed to encircle his girth; her fingers, slippery with soap and trapped by his, felt numbed by the raw heat and heavy weight of his flesh that she held. When he brought his hand down from her neck to her breast, she gave a small shriek, shocked.

"Wait, I—" The words clogged in her throat as Ulfberth ripped hard at the laces of her bodice, snapping them loose and then his hand was sliding down and inside, pushing her chest coverings roughly aside to squeeze her bare breast in his hand. Instantly her nipple hardened against his palm and she felt a flash of heat between her legs. Her eyes clamped shut, as though in denial and she felt his hand leave hers.

"Don't stop," he snapped hoarsely when her strokes faltered. "That's it," he encouraged when she started again. "All the way down to the base. Faster." His breathing was rapid, harsh and shallow even to his own ears and he knew it wouldn't be long before he spilled. But before that, he wanted to see the girl. Roughly, he pulled the dress off her shoulders, tearing the neckline and exposing her teats. They were as fair as the rest of her, fairer actually since they had always been hidden beneath layers of clothing. Her rosy nipples were hard and pointed, and she arched delightfully, a muffled cry escaping her as he reached forward and grabbed her other breast, kneading it hard enough to make her flinch. She cried out again as he pinched her nipples, rolling them with his fingertips before rubbing the pads of his thumbs over them.

And suddenly, he couldn't wait a moment more. He stood suddenly, and those unbearably blue eyes flashed open, and she knelt there, half-naked with her delectable mouth half-parted in surprise. Reaching for the bucket, Ulfberth dunked it in the barrel and poured the icy water over himself. Twice he did this, washing off most of the soap from his front and taking just enough off the edge from his throbbing cock to believe that he would at least last longer than penetrating the girl and climaxing inside her the moment he did. She squirmed back as the water splashed on her, and she was still wiping the drops from her face when he sat back down, and hauled her forward onto his lap.

One minute she had been on the floor, wiping water from her eyes and the next, she was being yanked forward before colliding hard with his chest. Fia pushed ineffectually against him, only to find he had wrapped his hand around her braid, pulling down and forcing her head backward. She felt the rough rasp of his beard against her exposed throat, mewled when she felt his teeth score her the curve between her neck and shoulder, screamed with his hot mouth closed over her breast, his tongue lashing her sensitive nipple and she arched forward when he sucked hard.

"Oh gods..." She groaned as he sucked harder, pushing forward to relieve the pressure and invariably offering her breast to him. "Stop...Ulfberth, wait...—" If he could have responded, he would have. But there was no way he was stopping now. He nipped sharply at the breast he had been suckling, growling with pleasure at the redness that sprang to the surface of her skin. Wrapping his arm tighter around her, he hauled her closer, burying his face in her trembling bosom, planting hard kisses on soft flesh, biting so that his mouth marked her as his conquest before turning his face to latch onto the nipple he had yet to taste. She was squirming and struggling so much she never noticed his hand beneath her skirts until he pushed the material up to her waist.

Cold air hit her thighs a moment before Fia felt his hands cup her arse. Before she could protest, he had bunched her skirts in one great hand, took the other side of her dress in his other hand and pulled up. She had barely needed to lift her arms, so forceful was his motion and then the dress was over her head and he was tossing it to the side. There was the sound of ripping and she realised he had torn off her small clothes. Then his hands were on her hips, dragging her forward, the wetness of his skin and the remaining soap making it all too easy. Ulfberth looked wild, almost feral and Fia knew her fate had been sealed the moment she had followed him into the bathroom.

'You owe him. You owe him.' It was a quiet litany she chanted again and again as he pulled her into place, clamping down on her hips that jerked when the hot, blunt head of his cock made contact with her mound. He was mouthing at the side of her neck, tongue just below her ear, and her hands kept slipping on the backs of his shoulders, her thighs sliding as she fought to find purchase on the huge body she was imprisoned against.

"Girl," he breathed hotly in her ear, "are you a virgin?"

Yes, every part of her wanted to scream, demanded she give him the lie. Instead, she stupidly surrendered the truth. "No, but—" But it had been so long, and only that one time. But she had never had a man like him before. But please be gentle. Be gentle.

But there was no time as Ulfberth reached down, lined himself against her quivering entrance and thrust up even as the arm wrapped around her waist like an iron band pushed down. Fia threw her head back, a shocked scream bursting from her lips to mingle with Ulfberth's shout of pleasure as he penetrated her deeply, heedless of the way she clung to his shoulders, frantically trying to haul herself up and away from the piercing heat that seared its way into her soft core. She sobbed, writhing in his embrace as he continued to push in, her inner muscles rippling futilely to expel the foreign hardness that burned as he ruthlessly continued to impale her.

She was pleading, her voice high and thin but he couldn't hear her for the roaring in his ears. Gods, it had been so long and he was so hard and she was so tight, so fucking godsdamned tight that he was half-convinced she had lied about not being a maid. Every muscle inside her was clamped around his cock, pulling back on the skin, soaking him with her heat and she was warmer, so much warmer than any woman he had ever had. She made his eyes roll back in his head as she arched, hips jerking and thrusting as she struggled atop his lap, long legs sliding against his thighs, her breasts and nipples brushing and rubbing against the sensitised skin of his chest. Every fibre in him was ready to explode. So he started thrusting, sliding his hands down to her arse, squeezing her firm bottom as he moved her to the rhythm of his hips. She dropped her head into the crook of his shoulder, fingers digging painfully into the bunched muscles of his upper arms; she whimpered loudly when he hooked a slender leg over his arm and knew with deep satisfaction when she slid down even more so that he was buried balls deep in her.

It felt like she was never going to ever forget this, to be able to erase the fiery sensation of him rocking deep at her innermost core, almost at the heart of her, it seemed. A deep aching flooded her thighs, smouldered at her entrance where he was firmly embedded, where he moved incessantly as he kept thrusting and thrusting, heedless of her pain which had thankfully subsided. Fia shuddered, tried to focus on the unsteady breaths she drew and not on the fact that she felt split, almost broken by Ulfberth. Ulfberth who was panting in her ear, whose mouth kept kissing her neck but never once her own mouth, whose large hands held her trapped against him as he used her to pleasure his body. Ulfberth whose wife she had inadvertently caused to die.

"Ride me, lass." The moment the words spilled out of his mouth, he wished he could have snatched them back out of the air. It was something he used to say to Adrienne when she had climbed atop him in their marriage bed just above the bathroom in which he was now fucking the Dragonborn. And then incredibly, the slender girl in his arms lifted her head, the corners of her eyes streaked with fallen tears, her lip red from her having bitten it hard enough to make a mark, and she began to move her hips. Ulfberth's breath hitched, his groan sounding nothing less strangled; he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Her breath was laced with the occasional hiss, golden strands that had come loose from her braid plastered themselves against damp sides of her face. "I can't hold on. The soap..." she muttered, hands sliding on his shoulders and arms, her face turning red again as though he were not already so deep inside her he couldn't tell where his flesh ended and hers began.

"Wrap your legs around me." Holding her carefully, he shifted forward and noticed for the first time that she was indeed utterly naked except for the boots he had left her in. The sight was so delicious that it went straight to his groin and Ulfberth found himself thrusting almost before she had encircled his waist. "Hook your ankles together. Hold on." Lifting her higher and closer, he put his mouth to her breast again, almost enjoying the high keening sound it drew from her as he sucked.

The soft leather from the boots soaked up the soap and moisture, making it easier to cling to him. Having her ankles hooked together helped as well. Using the strength in her legs and the new traction she had found, Fia moved her hips, thrusting tentatively each time Ulfberth moved her forward. She knew she was doing well when he began grunt softly each time she met his thrusts and for a few long minutes, they maintained that rhythm.

He bit down gently on the curve of her shoulder, fighting to keep pace with her. He even tried to distract himself by pulling at the leather thong that bound her braid, tangling his fingers in the gold mass as he shook it free, grasping it and shuddering as she experimentally rocked against him, urged on by his hands. There would be another time for that, he decided abruptly as her muscles clenched particularly hard around him. "Keep moving," he ordered harshly as he wrapped one arm around her hips, and the other he placed on her shoulder. Then he pulled down as he thrust up fiercely, curling his body forward, plastering her against him. Pleasure flashed from the tip of his cock which prodded against her womb down to the root where his sac was drawing up tight against his body, wrapped itself like a vice around his lower spine. Ulfberth felt every muscle in his body go taut, felt the world shrink and the room darken as everything faded, as every sensation in the world distilled itself into this quickening wet slap of flesh against flesh, into clutching hands and soft hair and breathy pants as he fucked into the Dragonborn with a vengeance.

'Ohgodsohgodsohg—' His mind went blank, existence burned white-hot before his eyes and through his body and Ulfberth shouted, half of it never making it past his throat as he crushed her against him. It was agony and ecstacy, a thundering song that would have sent him to his knees if he had taken her against the wall. His hips pumped wildly of their own volition, grinding into hers in a frenzy, his cock jerking and spurting his seed deep inside her womb and all he could do was cling to the girl and ride the wave of his orgasm it tore through him with the force of a storm.

When some semblance of awareness came back to him, Ulfberth realised he was slumped back against the chair, his arms still wrapped around the girl whom he was still inside of. He was breathing hard enough to rival a blown horse and this time, he knew the rivulets of moisture he felt trickling down his back and calves were not so much water as it was sweat. He was in need of another bath. In spite of himself, a low chuckle escaped him; he realised somewhere in the back of his mind how much she must have pleased him to engineer that particular change in mood.

Fia lifted her head, feeling absurdly shy since she knew full well that he was still buried deep inside her body. But he had laughed softly and it seemed a good sign. At least she was quite sure he was over the desire to kill her, even if she was covered in bruises and marks from the light bites he had planted all over her body. She sat up a little, wincing at the soreness between her legs but when she tried to lift herself off, Ulfberth stopped her, his gaze hooded and dark. The force of his climax had stolen her breath; for a moment she feared he would break her bones, so tightly had he pressed her to him as he shuddered and rocked into her, his hoarse cries of pleasure punctuated by the hot wetness she had felt him spill into her. Fia knew enough to be worried; a child was the last thing she needed, but it would have been useless to have tried to stop him. So she stayed quietly in his arms, let him soak up and draw out every drop of pleasure from their union until he had collapsed back against the chair. She had not come, and she felt a vague dissatisfaction but no resentment. Her pleasure had never been a part of this bargain.

"We need another bath," she said softly, fighting the urge to cover herself up, trying not to flush because Ulfberth was once again staring at her breasts. "I can't go back covered in soap. And if you would be so kind as to lend me a cloak..."

The ridiculous thief was actually blushing. Just to amuse himself, he reached out and lightly pinched a nipple. She reddened even as her flesh hardened for him, the tip turning delightfully hard as he rolled it back and forth, the sensation sending small sparks down to his belly. He felt his cock stir. Her eyes went wide; apparently so had she. "Oh, I'm not done with you yet, Fia." This time, it felt right to say her name, good even as he scooped her up, lifting her almost effortlessly before he laid her down on the wet ground, growling with pleasurable anticipation as he felt himself harden further, pushing against her walls. Pulling out of her, Ulfberth took a moment to admire her naked body; his hand stroked his cock faster as he traced the map of marks he had left on her neck, her shoulders, her high firm breasts. He remembered the incredible heat and tightness, the shrill scream that had aroused him so much that he hadn't been able to bring himself to stop plunging further inside her.

"Scream for me again, Fia," he said huskily, lowering himself on his elbows to nip at her soft stomach. He realised he liked her like this, helpless, uncertain, flushed and willing yet unwilling to please him.

"But...we've already...done it. What more do you want?" She gasped as he bit the inside of her thigh. She tried to shift away but he wouldn't let her, his hands grasping the back of her knees and she felt a flood of heat which she couldn't will away when he pushed her legs back and so far apart that her entire private area was exposed to him.

"What more do I want?" Ulfberth repeated her question mockingly. The soft curls that covered her cunt were as fair as the ones on her head, gleaming with the seed that he could see smeared on her thigh. He couldn't wait to be inside her again. "You promised to do anything. And what I want at the moment is to fuck you senseless until we both can't move. And after that, even when you go back to Breezehome, even when you go to wherever it is the Jarl sends you or even to High Hrothgar itself, you will come back to me and let me use you again."

She blinked, he could see the tears welling up. Gods, how old was the thief? She didn't look a day past nineteen and again, that little part of him was at it again, castigating him for using her like this. "A fair exchange isn't it? In return for all you've done."

When she nodded, wiping hastily at the tears that trickled down, Ulfberth felt a sense of satisfaction that overwhelmed the little guilt he experienced. "So, Fia. What did I ask you to do?"

"Scream," she whispered tremulously as he loomed over her, kneeling between her spread legs. "Now? But you haven't—"

Later he would make her repay the favour. Instinct and experience told him the girl was clueless when it came to pleasuring a man this way. So he would show her first and she would get better with time. But for now... Ulfberth bent his head quickly, felt her jerk with surprise as his fingers touched her mound, spreading her lips and exposing that sweet bud he was searching for. It was glistening; she was already wet. Lowering his face, he breathed in the scent of his seed and her smell. Then he licked her long and hard from her slit to her clit before sucking the throbbing bud into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

She screamed.


End file.
